Never Coming Back
by Rose du Nuit
Summary: The war against Voldemort has scarred many people. A few carry to many scars to remain in the wizarding world. This is the story of four of them. WIP. Will contain SLASH.
1. Never Coming Back

_"Never Coming Back" Covered by Michael Ball. I'm not sure who did it first._

* * *

There's a guy at the station that's standin' all alone  
He's got a battered old suitcase and ragged coat on  
Cold in his bones, got no shelter from the rain  
And he swears that he's never comin' back again  
Nobody sees him in the cover of the night  
Puts his hand in his pocket and he fumbles for a light  
Which he uses for the cigarette that helps to ease the pain  
And he swears that he's never comin' back again

All he wanted was a chance to live,  
Leave behind him all the memories  
Staring faces with accusing eyes  
All the sadness,  
All their vicious, vicious lies

He's longed for this moment since the day that he was born  
Longed for the time when this feeling would be gone  
A new life is beginning with the comin' of the train  
And he swears that he's never comin' back again  
Never comin' back to this dirty little town  
So tired of fightin' everything he's ever known  
Start a new life, things'll never be the same  
And he swears that he's never comin' back again

All he wanted was a chance to live,  
Leave behind him all the misery  
Staring faces with accusing eyes  
All the sadness,  
All their vicious, vicious lies

There's a guy at the station and he's standin' all alone  
He's got a battered old suitcase and a ragged coat on  
Cold in his bones, got no shelter from the rain  
And he swears that he's never comin' back again

Never comin' back, never comin' back, comin' back  
Never comin' back, comin' back again


	2. Into the Muggle World

_Note: To those following **Riders**, I'm sorry for the delay, I've got about half of chapter four written, but I'm suffering from massive writer's block on that story. Anywhen, it'll be up soon, I hope. Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter One

Sirius Black stood on his own far away from the bustling crowds of students, teachers, and aurors returning home from the war. Home. What was that? Theoretically, it was a place one felt, well, at home. But he had never had such a place, not in the Wizarding world anyway. So, he had come to the conclusion that he would find such a place in the Muggle world.

He wore jeans and a sweater and a trench coat over them, since it was raining outside. He carried his trunk of belongings transfigured into a soft-sided suitcase. It was time to leave behind all his pain and suffering. He stepped through the barrier from platform nine and three-quarters, and off into his destiny…

* * *

Remus Lupin still sat on the train, exhausted from the strain of the war, and his last, and final transformation. Thanks to Potions Master Severus Snape, Remus Lupin would no longer fear the moon – he would no longer transform. Remus had to give the man credit, he knew what he was doing. The potion had been painful, but anything that rearranges one's DNA tends to be. He was now a normal human. Completely normal. His final transformation had taken place before the final dose of the potion, sapping his magic, and returning it to the earth. He was now a Squib. 

He sighed. He supposed he had a better chance of getting a job in the Muggle world now, since there was no longer any danger to it. In the Wizarding world, he would be shunned. There were few jobs for those who had no magic, or, if they did, no control over it. Dumbledore, he supposed would have found something for him to do. He had for Filch and Hagrid, but as the old wizard had been one of the casualties of the war, there was next to no possibility of ever being received in the Wizarding world. Especially since he had been a werewolf.

He sighed again as he pulled his old Muggle jacket around him, and picked up his battered old suitcase. He calmly strolled from the train, the platform was empty. He set down his suitcase and took a moment to fish in his pockets for his cigarettes and book of matches. He lit one, threw away the match, then proceeded to follow his only road…

* * *

Draco Malfoy, Death Eater and spy for the Order of the Phoenix, stood alone, more aloof than usual. He had come to the conclusion that he had to leave the world of magic behind. It had caused him nothing but pain. No home to speak of, no real parents, it had simply been a gorgeous mansion for him to explore on his own, while his father kissed the boots of a sadistic half-blood, and his mother ran around to shops and planned parties. Perhaps the Muggle world would be more kind. After all, they had no preconceptions of name "Malfoy". They would not deny him a job because of the faded scar on his left forearm. 

He sighed and transfigured his robe into a leather jacket. Just because he was going to live in the Muggle world didn't mean he couldn't do so in style. He took a deep breath and strode through the barrier to the Muggle world…

* * *

Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived-to-become-a-man, sat in an empty compartment of the Hogwarts Express and wept. He had faced Voldemort one final time, and lived to tell the tale, if he could speak, that is. After that encounter, no one could draw words from him. Madame Pomfery had preformed extensive injury searches on him, as had specialists from St. Mungo's. Nothing was wrong, they concluded. He was a selective mute. Maybe, one day, someone would be able to draw words from him, but it would be several years, time enough for him to heal from the wounds that had caused him to go silent. 

He had studied sign language for years, doing volunteer work with the deaf after his seventeenth birthday. That had been four years ago, however, but he still recalled the unique form of communication. It might serve him well, in the Muggle world, he mused. _There, I can pretend I am mute, and maybe deaf as well._

He pulled his trench coat around him, picked up his suitcase, and silently left the station…


	3. Can it Get Any Better?

Chapter Two

Remus sighed. Work was a drag. It was difficult for a forty-year-old manwith only a recently-acquired GED to get a job. However, he had found one. He sighed again before plastering on a fake smile and walking up to the counter. "Would you like fries with that?"

Oh, yes, he was definitely going to go to College. _Damn, have to get back to the burgers before they burn_, he thought. At that instant all the burgers on the stove flipped themselves. He gasped. Did that just happen?

The manager stormed up to Remus. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know, sir." God it felt weird to have to address a man ten years younger than himself as 'sir.'

"Remus, I know you like to have fun, and maybe that's why you never finished school, it's not my place to judge. But, That had to've been one of your pranks. There's no other explanation."

"I didn't do it, sir. I really have no idea how that happened."

"If you can't admit to a small prank like that, that gets work done, I'm going to have to let you go."

"It honestly wasn't me, sir," Remus replied in a frightened whisper.

The Manager sighed. "Fine. Alright. I guess, if you still insist, running the risk of your job, you didn't do it. I'm sorry."

He clapped Remus on the shoulder before turning and leaving.

* * *

Remus unlocked the door of his apartment and scooped the mail off of the floor. Ah, there it was. A letter from New York University. He hesitated before tearing it open. "Dear Mr. Lupin, We are pleased to inform you, you have been accepted into the New York University School of Arts and Sciences…" He read aloud. "WOOOT!" 

He flicked on his stereo and out came "Stairway to Heaven."

"Yes, there are two roads you can go by / But in the long run / There's still time to change the road you're on,"he screached at the top of his lungs.

Remus danced around the apartment singing, before sifting through the rest of his mail. The last letter in the pile was in a thick cream envelope, with no return address. The handwriting seemed like it should be familiar, but didn't register. He opened it, more carefully, and with less hurry than the other.

_Lupin,_

_Headmistress McGonagall is here. She says there was a burst of magic from your place of employment this afternoon. (She won't tell me where, so it must be insignificant, hmmm?) Anyway, she says you are the only person employed there with any magical history. I've done some research on what happened a few years ago. When you lost your magic, it apparently wasn't lost at all. When the Potion rearranged your DNA, it blocked your magic from you to help you heal quicker, and has been gradually returning since then. _

_Deputy Headmaster Hogwarts School of Wizardry,  
Severus Snape_

Remus stared at the parchment and let out a bark of laughter before sighing. Could this day get any better?

* * *

For two students with such similar interests and such distinctive looks, it was amazing that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had gone through nearly four years of college at New York University without running into each other. Until they did. Literally. 

Both boys liked to run early in the morning. It helped them to find themselves for the day, it also kept them in perfect condition for soccer (for Harry) and tennis (for Draco).

This one morning, however, Draco chose to change the path he usually ran, and went the opposite direction. He wasn't really paying attention, nor had he consciously made the decision for the change, his feet just took him that direction. He was zoned out, trying to figure out thatphysics formula the professor was trying to explain yesterday.

Harry Potter was jogging around campus, thinking on a topic for his upcoming philosophy paper, when he ran into something, or rather someone. He fell on top of the other person. "I'm sorry," he murmured, " I wasn't paying attention."

He pushed himself off the ground and offered the other young man a hand up. A soft hand gripped around his, and Harry pulled, finding himself staring into a pair of cloudy silver eyes. Both boys gasped. "I didn't know you were here," they said at the same time, then laughed.

"Wow," Draco chuckled, "you've changed."

"So have you," Harry replied.

And it was true. Both had changed dramatically. Harry had finally started to gain some weight, and now looked less like a scarecrow, and more like a well-muscled and handsome young man. His raven hair, although still unruly, had tamed enough that he could pull it into a ponytail at the base of his neck. A hairstyle, he saw the blonde had adopted as well. Draco, no longer looked like he had never seen sunlight. He had a nice gold-tinted tan, was obviously well, muscled, also, and tall. He was now the same height as Harry, who had towered over him, even when they were twenty.

"You play a sport, of course." Once more together. Again, they laughed.

"Tennis," Draco grinned.

"Soccer," Harry grinned back.

Draco suddenly took a deep breath. Puzzled, Harry asked, "What?"

"You're talking."

Harry smiled. "Yeah. It took a few years, though."

"I wasn't there for it." There was regret and sadness in this simple statement.

"No one was. I had to get over myself."

"I didn't even tell you where I was."

"Nor I you."

"I'm sorry."

"So'm I."

"You want to come back to my apartment for breakfast?"

"How about you come running with me first? Be almost like old times again."

"Sure."

They grinned at each other and started off, their pace automatically adjusting to the other's until they ran with the same rhythm, the same strides, the same breaths. Yes, just like old times. Running around Hogwarts grounds every morning before the rest of the school awoke.

* * *

Sirius Black sat in his studio appartment, reading his mail. Several were from universities begging him for an interview, but one intrigued him beyond any other. New York University was inviting him to teach a two-week seminar for the creative writing majors, along with an interview with the publisjers of the school's two papers. He had always wanted to teach at Hogwarts, but due to his past... yes, that was the one he would agree to. Besides, New York should be interesting.


	4. Can't, too comfy

The e-mail said the same for both of them. "You have the pleasure of being one of the two students interviewing the notable poet Tom Black at one pm on the fourth of November in the conference room of the Stephen Chan Library. Do not be late, your professors will be notified."

Draco was early, he always was, but it was twelve-fifty-five and no Tom Black or the other student. Twelve-fifty-eight and in rushed Harry. "Sorry I'm late, I - " He chuckled. "Well, thank god".

Draco laughed, "Still can't be on time, eh?"

"Guess not."

"I guess Mr. Black isn't puntual, either."

A voice from behind them made them both jump. "Actually, yes, he is."

"Sirius!" the boys cried and rushed to hug him.

* * *

After their interview with Sirius, the two boys asked to meet him for dinner. It turned into a routine. Harry and Draco would go running together every morning, share breakfast at either boy's appartment, or sometimes a coffee shop, and then head off to their classes. After their seminar with "Tom" the three would go out for dinner, or one would experiment. But one evening, the seminar ran late, and neither boy felt like cooking dinner, and Sirius didn't feel like a sit-down dinner. 

They were lounging in Harry's living room. Harry and Draco were sprawled on the carpet, occasionally rousing the energy to smack the other out of their space, and Sirius was draped across the couch.

"I'm hungry,"Draco complained.

"Then, go cook us dinner,"Harry suggested.

"Why don't you do it?" Draco quipped.

Harry let his head loll to the right to mock-glare at the blonde, "You're the better cook. Go make us something yummy."

"Can't. Too comfy."

Harry stuck his tongue out at him. "Now, that was mature," Sirius quipped.

The three lapsed into silence.

"I'm hungry,"Draco whined.

"Then cook us dinner," Harry whined back.

"Can't. Too comfy."

once more Harry stuck his tongue out at the blonde.

"Best watch where you stick that thing, someone might bite it."

"Boys..." Sirius tried not to laugh.

The boys turned their attention to him. "Huh?"

Sirius sighed. "Never mind."

Silence overtook them again.

"How about we walk down to the BK. It's only a block..." Sirius suggested.

"Can't. Too Comfy," Harry and Draco said together.

"You know, sometimes you two scare me."

Harry shrugged and Draco raised his eyebrows.

"Why don't you go down for us, Siri?" Harry suggested.

"Can't. Too Comfy."

Both boys stuck their tongues out at Sirius and proceeded to pout.

After afew moments of staring at the two perfected puppy faces, Sirius gave in. "Alright," he sighed as he pushed himself up from the couch and pulled on his shoes, "but you two owe me big time."

The boys remained on the floor, not moving - thinking, planning their final term papers. Harry managed to pull together enough energy to sit up and lean against the couch. Draco followed suit a few moments after. "Think Dr. Kemler'll let me do a constuctional analysis of _King Lear_ using _Poetics _and_ The Rhetoric_?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Knowing Kemler, he'll love it - if it's done well. That's for your Philosophy final?"

"Yeah. What about your Chem final, what're you doing for that?"

"It's actually a combination of my Chem and my Education, I'm teaching a seminar on the chemical properties of alcohol, but I have to do a break down of it, and write a report, not only on my findings, but also on the seminar."

"Over-acheiver."

"_Poetics_? Most Philosophy majors stay the hell away from Aristotle."

Harry shrugged. "I like him."

"What about your Creative Writing final?"

"I'm writing a two-part, full length play. And giving it to one of the Theatre majors to direct for their final. Probably Cindy. How 'bout yours?"

"Cindy'd be a good choice, she's dedicated, creative, and smart. I've been writing a novel for mine, actually."

"You know, I kind of have to pity our advisors."

"Yeah..." They lapsed into silence. "I'm hungry..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, eat me!" Harry exclaimed in exasperation. Draco quirked an eyebrow, then a wicked grin took over his face. "Uh-oh," Harry squeaked. "I was joking, mate..."

This only made Draco's grin grow wider and, if it were possible, more evil as he slowly crawled onto Harry's lap. "Um... What are you doing?"

"Seeing if you taste different..." Draco's eyes had a playful, yet cautious light to them as his face slowly drew nearer to Harry's. He tilted his head and closed his eyes and his lips brushed those of the raven-haired boy. He brought one hand up to Harry's neck drawing him nearer, running the other through Harry's hair, loosening the the tie holding his unruly mop at the base of his neck. Harry's hands automatically went to Draco's back, pulling him closer, still. When they parted, Harry sighed and leaned his head back against the seat of the couch. "God, I missed you, Dragon. How I missed you."

Draco sat sideways on Harry's lap, and leaned his head against his shoulder. "I missed you too, Kitten."

Half an hour later, they were awoken by the sound of laughter - the laughter of two people. Both boys jumped up, pulling their wands from hidden pockets and turning on their intruders before realizing it was Sirius and...

"Remus!" the boys gasped together.

Remus grinned at the two boys now tucking away their wands and murmured, "That was a sight I thought I'd never see again."

"What?" Harry and Draco said together.

"You two cuddling. You know you could actually gage how bad a battle had been by how long you two were stuck together on the couch in headquarters?"

"Is that true Siri?" Harry asked.

Siriusnodded. "Until the last one, yes."

"Oh..."

Draco took a step toward Harry and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close. Harry did not resist, in fact, he leaned into Draco's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Hush, baby, we can talk about that later."

Harry nodded and shifted his eyes to his two old professors. "What's going on in the Wizarding world anyway?" Both men shifted uncomfortably. "What?"

"I haven't been back since the final battle, Harry," Sirius admitted. "I suppose it was cowardly, but I didn't want to go through the coming out as a normal wizard after they caught Pettigrew."

Harry turned to Remus. "I lost my magic after Severus cured me. I didn't see any other choice."

Harry looked up at his lover from days gone by, "Draco?"

"I also left after the final battle. I figured you would stay. I couldn't bear seeing you silent, or being pushed away from you anymore."

"Well, aren't we all just a bunch of cowards."

"What do you mean?"

"We all ran away from, or tried to run away from, our problems."

"You seem to have conquered yours," Remusspat. "You're actually talking now."

"He has a point," Sirius agreed with a glare.

"Out." Harry growled. "Both of you. Get out. Now."


	5. Oh, fuck it

One morning in December found Harry and Draco snuggled up in their appartment, sleeping late, and relishing the beginning of their Winter break. It also saw Remus and Sirius in the kitchen of their appartment arguing.

"Remus, you really should appologize to Harry..."

"Me?" Remus shook a coffee spoon at his boyfriend, "It wasn't until you agreed with me that he blocked us?"

"Yes. Agreed with you." Sirius sighed. "Okay, we both need to appologize."

"Better, but, no."

"Remus..." Sirius' tone was edgy. "He sends back our owls and muggle-sent letters - unopened. I'm sorry, but I can't live with that. And I'm not about to wait for him to appologize for banning us from his appartment because we said something we shouldn't have."

"Then you bloody well appologize, but you'll do it on your own."

Half an hour later, Sirius and a grumbling Remus were on the landing of Harry's appartment, knocking on the door. Muffled voices were heard through the door.

"Dammit, I was comfy."

"Me too. I don't wanna get the door. You do it."

A glare was heard even through the door. "Fine, let me find my pants..."

Less than a minute later, the door was opened by a half-naked Draco. He stood there, with the door partially open, shocked.

"Who is it, Dragon?" Harry asked as he came in from the bedroom, also half-dressed. When he saw his callers, his face turned to stone. "What do you want?"

"We came to appologize for our actiones last month," Sirius started.

"It was un-called for and cruel," Remus finished.

"You think a simple appology is going to heal the wounds you re-opened?" Draco exploded. "Have you any idea what made him shun everyone after the battle? Have you any idea how much he had to put behind him that you brought back up with one comment?"

"Draco..." Harry ended his lover's tirade. "Thank you for your appology. Goodbye. Shut the door, Draco."

He really hadn't needed to say the last, Draco had already slammed the door in their faces by the time Harry was halfway through.

* * *

Draco and Harry spent most of their winter holliday in the library, or in their appartment working on their final projects. Harry was working with the computer while Draco carefully wrote out his lesson plans lying on his stomach in the den. He heard the printer start and Harry let out a loud "YAWP!" as he slid into the room. It had, however been a while since he had slid stockinged feet on freshly-polished wood, and he lost his balance and fell - on top of Draco. An "oof" came from both boys, though neither made to move. Harry propped himself up with his elbows on the carpet, and placed his chin in his hands. Draco tapped his pen on his notebook. 

"Would you mind removing your stomach from my arse, _darling_?"

"Why? Would you like something _else_ of mine on your arse?"

"Well, not _on_ my arse, and not now. Have to get this done by tomorrow, remember?"

Harry huffed as he stood up. "Give us a kiss, at least, love?"

"You're refering to yourself in _plural_ again."

"And you find it absolutely endearing."

Draco sighed as he stood and pulled Harry into what he had intended to be a short, chaste kiss. Harry, however, had other plans. Harry thrust his fingers into Draco's hair and deepends the kiss, plundering Draco's mouth with his tongue. Only when the need for oxygen became inherant did Harry end his assault on the blonde's mouth and began attacking his throat. Harry's hands traveld down Draco's back, and to the front of his shirt, hastily unfastening the buttons. "Harry, I... ahh, oh Gods! Harry, my... oh fuck it. I'll do it in the morning."

A/N: AHHH! So, I was rading over this for starting the next chapter, and I caught a grammar error, and I was just freaked out that I made that mistake, so anyone who noticed that Draco said "You refered to yourself in third-person _plural_ again." Kudos to you! Yes, he refered to himself in FIRST-person plural. That's what I get for writing after going a whole day without nicotine... Ah welll, enjoy!


	6. Oh, bloody hell!

Harry was sitting in his Philosophy classroom when Kemler entered, slamming the door behind him. It was two weeks before the end of the semester, and everyone was praying he would cancel the end-of-week quiz in leiu of giving an exam review. Kemler, however, stood in front of the room, and smirked. It was a smirk that would have struck fear into the hearts of the most fearsome professor Harry had ever known before - Severus Snape. Even he would have been trembling in his boots. And then Kemler began to speak, and the class was even more frightened than before.

"I've just decided to switch our Friday schedule to Monday, which means that the test we take each Friday, on what we learned during the week, will now take place on Monday before we've learned it; but since today is Tuesday it doesn't matter in the slightest... Pencils ready." And with that, he began passing out the quizzes.

* * *

The following two weeks went by slowly, but Harry and Draco both passed their senior defenses. When they discovered this, they grabbed a few friends and went to the nearest bar. Ash, a friend of Harry's challanged Draco to a drinking contest. A bottle of tequila was brought forthalong withtwo shot glasses. Draco, eventually realizing she was winning, conceeded, asking, "How did you bloody well do that?"

Harry rolled his eyes, knowing the prepared speach that was coming. "Tough girls come from New York, sweet girls, they're from Georgia. But we Virginia girls... We have fire and ice in our blood. We can ride horses, be a debutante, throw left hooks, and drink with the boys, all the while making sweet tea, darlin'. And if we have an opinion, you know you're gonna hear it."

Draco turned to Harry, "You know, she reminds me of Ginny. A lot."

"Yeah, I know. Frightening, isn't it?"

"I miss Gin," Draco sighed. "I think I want to try and go back."

"I know what you mean. I miss Ron and 'Mione."

Ash gave them a quizzical look, "This is about your mysterious past, isn't? And the nightmares?"

"How do you know about the nightmares?"

"Oh. Please. I rented an appartment with you for two years. I know more about you than you think I do."

"I don't want to know," Harry muttered, shaking his head.

As, he, Draco and Ash left the bar, and headed for their appartments, the thought of returning not only to England, but to the magical world kept resurfacing with a clarity that alcohol hardly ever gave.

"Draco..." Harry prompted once they had returned to their appartment. "What would you say to a little visit to England?"

"Scary. But I think I want to. I miss Ginny so much. My first real friend."

"Let's go."

"When?"

"Tonight."

Harry strolled hesitantly toward the closet in his room, and pulled out his Hogwarts trunk. He ran his hands over, almost as if in prayer, before opening the lid and removing his wand and a green traveling cloak. When he turned around, he found Draco strapping his wand into the wrist holster he wore during the war. Harry did the same before pulling the cloak around himself. "Sobrietus," he murmured, pointing his wand at himself, then at Draco, repeating the charm. He glanced into Draco's eyes and pulled up the hood of his cloak, wrapped one arm around Draco's waist and apparated them to the Leaky Cauldron. The landed in the main room, nearly clear of customers, but old Tom was still behind the bar. "We need a room for the night," Harry said, not removing his hood.

"Three galleons, and your names," Tom said, holding out a register book and a quill.

"What do you say to six galleons, and we forget our names?" Harry inquired.

Tom, always looking for proffit, smiled. "Hello, Mr. Johnson, Mr. Smith. The first room on your right, second floor, is free."

Both young men were too nervous and excited to sleep, and spent the few hours before dawn simply talking over old times. When seven AM rolled around, they transfigured their clothes into pristing black slacks and white shirts before wrapping themselves once more in their cloaks. They found Tom at the bar again, serving breakfast. Harry approached again. "Sir, we're looking for a Mr. Ronald Weasley; do you know where I might find him?"

"Well, he teaches at Hogwarts during the year, but you'll find him at the Burrow. His mum and da left it to him when they died."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. They were good people. Thank you."

Harry and Draco strolled over to the fireplace, tossed in a pinch of floo powder and shouted, "The Burrow!"

Harry made a clean exit, having learned sometime during his seventh year, and Draco followed, looking more prim than before, flicking off the one peice of ash that dared mar his robe.

Harry breathed in deep once before removing his hood and calling out, "Ron?"

A tall young man with red hair and blue eyes emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron, and carrying a baby. "Oh, bloody hell!"


End file.
